


All My Ghosts

by TWDObsessive



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Despair, Did I mention Major Character Death?, Ghosts, Guilt, Heavy Angst, M/M, Madness, Major character death - Freeform, POV First Person, POV Rick Grimes, Suicidal Thoughts, author does not recommend this fic, because Major Character Death, turn back now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 05:03:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8237045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWDObsessive/pseuds/TWDObsessive
Summary: Rick's decent into madness as he waits on his knees before Negan.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written on my cell at 3:00 in the morning. 
> 
> Warning: Do not read this. Major Charachter Death. Getting myself ready for the horrors that lie ahead in season 7. But you don't need to come down this road with me. Turn back now. I'll have something better up next week.
> 
> Unbeta'd and not sure why I'm even posting this.

They all die. Everyone I try to protect. Lori. Amy. Sophia. Shane. T-Dog. Andrea. Dale. Hershel. Bob. Tyrese. Beth. Noah. Jessie. Ron. Sam. Reg. Deanna. Denise. And dozens of names that I’m ashamed I don’t even remember. Some whose names I never knew.

Some were brought down by walkers. Some by the evil in other men. Some by me... many by me. If not a direct result like Shane or Pete, then indirectly. I hold the death certificates for Hershel, Reg, for Jessie and her children. For everyone that died at the Prison. I could find a way to connect my choices to nearly every life that flickered out like a flame around me. So much blood on my hands. The dead are mine. 

The ones who aren’t dead, might as well be. And that’s mine too. I led us all to where we were- the middle of the woods on our knees, surrounded by animals disguised as men. I brought them all straight to the devil. 

See, I’d lost my mind and none of them wanted to believe it. They still wanted to follow me, still wanted to see me for what I once was. They still listened. They should have learned. After the CDC, the Farm, the Prison, Terminus. I led them from one slaughter to the next to the next and now we’re sitting like appetizers on a platter waiting for our new guest to pick one of us up and swallow us whole. 

I see ghosts. They talk to me and I listen and no one knows this. After Lori left, the dead Lori that haunted me at the prison, I was okay for a while. Daryl knew and Hershel. They knew I saw her. When the next ghost came, I knew I’d have to keep that quiet. I’d seen Morgan when he’d lost his mind and I knew that same fate was coming for me. Madness. My ghosts are all here now. I see them standing behind Negan and watching us. Lori. Shane. Hershel. All of them. They are all waiting for the next one of us to join them. 

“I will shut that shit down, no exceptions,” Negan was saying as he walked our gauntlet. I looked to my ghosts for help. They were all in white and they looked at me with pity. They were free and I was still trapped on this earth and they took more pity on my fate then their own. I still had to live with myself. I was far worse off than them.

It was clear as the devil paced before us that one of us was going to cross over. Another of my family would go from dirty, tattered clothes to angel white. They would be taken from me, but they wouldn't leave. Like Lori never left. Andrea. Sophia.

I tried to speak, but I was wordless. I couldn't form any thoughts much less translate them into sound. So I just knelt helpless and waited to see who would rise from a pile of broken bones and spilled blood. Who would join my parade of ghosts tethered to me like Marley’s chains.

“This is your kid, right?” 

I snapped my head to attention, eyes blurred, dizzy. Carl. Not Carl. 

“This is definitely your kid,” the monster said with a laugh.

“You can try to work this out, Rick,” the ghost of Hershel told me.

“Just stop this!” It was my voice. I heard it, but I didn't remember deciding to say anything. I could barely think with all the voices. All of them talking to me at once. Jessie. Tyrese. Sophia. Sam. Then just one.

“Rick? Man, I’d help if I could, but you killed me,” Shane said. I looked at him, blinking tears.

Beth started to sing. She sings to me sometimes to calm my nerves. Sometimes I find myself humming along to songs I’d never heard before. But this one I knew. She'd sang it before at the prison.

_Of all the comrades that e'er I had  
They're sorry for my going away  
And of all the sweethearts that e'er I had  
They'd wish me one more day to stay  
But since it falls unto my lot  
That I should rise and you should not  
I gently rise and softly call  
Good night and joy be with you all_

After she finished, the Devil’s voice was back, loud and sing-songy and as casual as a man trying to pick out a fresh plum in the produce aisle of a supermarket.

“...My mother told me to pick the very best one and you..”

I squeezed my eyes shut, turned my head, and prayed for it to be me. I had an army of ghosts. Could they do nothing for me? Nothing to help end this? Then I heard the thud of bat to body, sniffles and sobs. And laughter from the monster.

I heard a low buzz and all the sounds around me faded to silence. Then I heard footsteps. I knew they were the kind only I could hear. My new ghost was coming to greet me. I heard someone crouch down in front of me.

“Rick?”

No. God, no. I opened my eyes to the familiar voice and Daryl peered at me through his shaggy bangs. He was all in white and he wore a soft smile.

“It's okay. I'll be with you every step from here on out just like I always been. Ain't never left ya before. Ain't gonna leave you now.”

“I want to go with you,” I sobbed. Not this one. I can't take this one. Not Daryl. He'd been the only tie to my sanity. He was everything.

“Ain't your turn yet,” he said softly, pity in his eyes like the others had.

“How much longer?” I asked, my voice barely a croak. How much longer do I have to walk this earth? Facing the living and the dead every day...facing the people I've let down… facing the disastrous results of all my wrong decisions.

“For as long as it takes,” Daryl whispered. “But don't worry. I’m here. I won't leave your side.”

**Author's Note:**

> The good news is that there is NO WAY this is going to happen. So when 7x01 comes on we can think "well, coulda been worse"
> 
> Please don't stop reading me. I swear next week's fic will be better!!


End file.
